Daniel Doughty

dsd_uk

Daniel Doughty

In 2014 I cycled from Tokyo to Tokyo,In 2015 I started writing a book about cycling from Tokyo to Tokyo,In 2016 I finished writing a book about cycling from Tokyo to Tokyo,In 2017 I will not be cycling from Tokyo to Tokyo.

Mt. Osore - Aomori 78 miles I awoke early as usual, in sync with daybreak, slightly surprised to have fallen asleep to the sound of desperately hungry bugs. Yet, as I emerged from my tent, all was still; the heathen swarms having dissipated back into the depths from whence they had came. A thick band of mist clung to Lake Usori, partially obscuring its luminous glow, as the pinnacle of Mt. Ozore floated mysteriously above, coaxed in a clear blue summer sky. My day started with a series of steep climbs up and out of the caldera; I scaled a number of energy zapping gradients ranging from 9% - 12%. This is never a good way to start the day; always more appealing to be able to gradually ease one’s stiff muscles into a climb - ... read more

Hakodate – Mt. Osore 38 miles It was a short 90-minute ferry ride from Hakodate to Ōma, a small town upon the tip of the axe-shaped peninsula of Shimokita. Ōma is famed for having some of the most delectable and pricey tuna in Japan, an abundance which can commonly be found in Tokyo’s rampant Tsukiji Market. A stone’s throw to the north was Cape Ōma, the northern most point of Honshū. A black and white lighthouse sits just off shore on a tiny low-lying island, the last rock to stand between Honshū and Hokkaidō; the big island now a mere shadow grafted onto the horizon. The skies were free of cloud cover as the sun shimmered brightly off of the calm waters of the Tsugaru Strait. At a Cornetto incinerating 24°C, I quite rightly slapped on ... read more

Oshamanbe - Hakodate 87 miles When I slept, I dreamed of Pokémon, most notably an unofficial Pokémon that goes by the name of ‘Anusmouthmon,’ and the less said about his party trick the better! His ethereal-realm antics however wouldn’t put me off my breakfast of chocolate croissants from the ever trusting Seicomart; a supermarket that once away from Hokkaidō I would come to miss dearly. Of the roughly 6.7 billion different convenience stores spanning across the Japanese archipelago, Seicomart will always be held in high regard, its prices are inviting and its food delectable. Now if that free plug doesn’t get me free croissants I don’t know what will! Being a Monday, the sloppy Sunday drivers were now back in the office dreaming up a world of clerical miseries. My weekday competition was again the omn ... read more

Lake Shikotsu – Oshamanbe 82 miles A multitude of mountains paved the way for the 60-mile stretch between Lake Shikotsu and Lake Toya. With the comfort of clear skies, I made exceptional progress, my only concerns being the weekend drivers who drove by as if they had just been given a day pass to behave like absolute mentalists. Any regard for the Highway Code was completely shelved at the weekend, it seemed. Arriving at Lake Toya, in just about one piece, I stopped for some late-afternoon fried chicken treats from Seicomart. Lake Toya, like Shikotsu is a caldera lake, but its shape is more circular; with a circumference of just over 26 miles. In the middle lies four small forested islands, observantly called Nakajima, Middle Islands... read more

Sapporo – Lake Shikotsu 53 miles Between an 8-hour karaoke binge and England’s next World Cup match, I’d had very little time to rest. Normally, a 4am kick off would have been deemed an unheard of feat, yet I was still running on an excess of alcohol fumes and raring for England’s next humiliation to the Uruguayan’s. This match inevitably resulted in England being dumped out of the World Cup; the impossible dream living up to its predictable reputation. And with Japan shortly following England out of the back door, football fever soon dampened down across the board. England’s loss however would have a sobering effect upon me. I’d been in Hokkaidō for close to 2 months now, and as much as it was a an awe-inspiring and grandiose prefecture, I was eager to experience the ... read more

Mashike - Sapporo 74 miles When I awoke I was able to add a new tick to the list of places slept upon my journey thus far: Hostel - ✓ Baseball Pitch - ✓ Park Bench - ✓ The House of Pubes - ✓ Hotel - ✓ Tsunami Evacuation Point - ✓ Refugee Shelter - ✓ Wilderness - ✓ Train Station- ✓ Traditional Japanese Home - ✓ Bus Stop - ✓ Congratulating myself I shoved a couple of bananas into my gob before making haste into the overcast mountains of Shokanbetsudake. Not ultimately before I might add, sweeping and tidying up the premises. The Japanese etiquette almost flowing naturally through me now, apart from the fact that I’d just roughed it for the night it in a bus stop like a quintessential hobo that is. The ... read more

Shosanbetsu - Mashike 66 miles The night saw yet more heavy rainfall, but camping under a picnic shelter I’d find myself smug and unfazed by what would have otherwise been another soggy dilemma. I’d soon be seeing the bright lights of Sapporo again, where I’d be able to rectify my current tent situation. As I continued south along the west coast, I found very little gradient to contend with; allowing for a productive day’s progress. Passing through the charmless industrial city of Rumoi, the grisly Mt. Shokanbestu didn’t altogether seem too pleased to see me. For the best part of the day, the weather had been composed, but from the mountain range a dark foray of clouds had assembled. Vast hazy drifts of precipitation were coaxing the far reaching forests that clustered the periphery of Mashike; ... read more

Wakkanai For three days I found myself holed up in another one of Hokkaidō’s classic 1980’s themed youth hostels. It was a desolate sort of building that gave off a haunted house vibe; located atop an isolated hill. Wakkanai was still being deluged by buckets of rain and after a while I began to feel somewhat trapped; the early stages of cabin fever were imminent. I walked around the empty hostel in an attempt to keep myself busy, but there was no one else around. Reception was only open for a couple of hours each day and the elderly gentleman receptionist mostly appeared to be interested in staring at the wall. Each morning I would awake and pull back the curtains to expose the watery world of Wakkanai. Then I’d let out a heavy sigh before ... read more

The rain wasn’t heavy, but it was constant, and within a few hours my tent was drenched. By torchlight, I was able to find a vast bulk of the water’s entry points and under each drip I placed a plastic bag to collect the water. Every hour or so I emptied the bags outside of the tent, before allowing them to slowly refill again. Ridiculously, I kept up these shenanigans until dawn, by which point I had 9 bags of water positioned around myself. I waited for the rain to simmer into drizzle before packing up camp. By the time I’d paid my camping fees to the site manager - who had no idea I had even camped upon his turf - it had started to rain again. Donning my wet weather gear and heading north, ... read more

Hamatonbetsu - Rebun 73 miles I awoke cold and damp, I hadn’t jizzed myself, unfortunately things never got that far. But my tent was to prove that it wasn’t the watertight vessel that I’d hoped it would be. In fact, it was s**t, just plain s**t; a little like water torture. Yet, for now, the rain had lapsed and the skies sat wearily overcast. I wiped down the inside of my tent with a cloth, in an attempt to absorb a bulk of the moisture, ringing the cloth out frequently. My schoolboy error lay in the fact that my far from suave pop-up tent was only a one season tent, summer minus the rain. I’d need to invest in a waterproof flysheet as soon as possible or face a prominently wet future. Cycling north along the ... read more